In the Hands of the Gods
by The Spangled Pandemonium
Summary: When Greek Gods roamed the land, two lovers were separated by fate. Now Hermione, a seemingly normal witch, & Draco, a boy whose anger clouds his heart, are put together for project about the magic of ancient Greece. Why do they have dreams that connect?
1. A Cloud was on the Mind of Men

Author: The*Spangled*Pandemonium

Title: In the Hands of the Gods

Chapter Title: A Cloud Was on the Mind of Men

Summary: When Greek Gods still roamed the earth, two lovers were separated by fate. Now, Hermione, a seemingly ordinary witch, and Draco, a boy whose anger clouds his heart, are joined together in a project about the magic of ancient Greece. Why do they have dreams that connect? Why do strange things happen when they're together?

~~~*~~~

_Not all Gods live forever, you know._

_A course of a life can change forever in just one second. But time didn't take away my beloved daughter. Love did._

_Hermia… I thought her too young and vulnerable to face a boy like Damian. He was going to hurt her, I believe, and use my daughter as a stepladder to immortality. _

_What would any father do, when he found out that his pride and joy was going with an undesirable? I told Zeus of the abomination, and he repaid a favor that I had given him years ago. So he banished Damian into the sky, trapped within a constellation for centuries, until one day, he would be reborn as a human, far away from my daughter, who would have forgotten him by then._

_But she did not forget._

_Two short months after he was exiled, she made a deal with Hades. He gave her a potion that made her mortal, and…she left._

_Her last note to me said that she'd be with Damian, even if it took more than one lifetime. _

_I realize now that I shouldn't have tried to control her life. She was always smarter than her sisters and so much more independent. It must've been the fact that she was the youngest of them that made me believe she was susceptible to all dangers._

_Those were the old days. Now, we are simply myths told to little children in classrooms. After all these years, I understand what Hermia was going through. _

_And I am determined that she will meet him again. I'll make her happy, even if she isn't with me anymore._

~~~*~~~

Hermione:

Have you ever heard that expression "damned if you do, damned if you don't"? It's the dilemma of being revolted by something and attracted to it at the same time. And that's exactly how I felt about that blasted project Dumbledore was so excited about.

I was sitting in the Great Hall, stirring my lukewarm coffee, with my hazel eyes glazed over as conversation around me swept about unnoticed like a soft wind. The room was dappled in pale morning sunlight, which glimmered attractively on the golden plate in front of me. Everything looked like it was going on all right, but I couldn't shake away the icky feeling of tension in my back. 

Intuition told me something surprising was going to happen. And I didn't like surprises; especially if my grades depended on it.

"Umm Hermione?" My red-haired friend, Ron Weasley, said sheepishly to me. "I just ate your croissant… Is that ok?"

I snapped out of my lazy stupor as if someone had jabbed me in the ribs. After a slow glance at my empty plate, I proceeded to glare threateningly into Harry Potter's pale face.

"You could've stopped him!" I said, feigning irritation. My hazel eyes narrowed slightly, and I assembled my expression into my typical no-nonsense frown. The effect was kind of ruined by the faint twitch of amusement at the corner of my mouth.

Harry shrugged lightly, and a wide grin meandered slowly on to his face. "You didn't seem to mind… Too busy admiring the back wall over there to notice?"

I pretended to glower sulkily as I stuffed a few slices of fruit into my mouth. "I'm worried about the project… There are too many teachers are smiling like they've got something exciting up their sleeves. It's unnerving."

"You worry too much, Hermione." Ron declared with the precision of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. "Lighten up a little." He polished off the last traces of a scrambled egg and ended his small speech with a smile. A smile, unfortunately, which had bit of egg still left in it.

I snorted daintily (if that's even possible) and wiped my mouth with my napkin. "Lets see if you'll still be laughing when we're forced to eat spiders…or something."

A loud rapping sound from the teacher's table plunged most of the room into silence. 

"All 6th years stay… The rest of the students you may go to your separate classes." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, "That is, unless you want to go with them Messrs. Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle."

Each of the boys turned a satisfying shade of pink for being singled out.

Draco and his two cronies had been cackling over Blaise's antics as he tried to cram a whole sausage link into his mouth. It was so annoyingly juvenile, and they didn't even realize that every Professor in the room was giving them the eye!

I've always wondered how anyone could survive against a teacher's blatant disapproval.

Dumbledore continued when the last titter finally died down. "This year, I have decided on making a project that will improve your researching skills and enhance your resourcefulness and creativity. We, the teachers, paired you up with your partners according to your abilities. We have assigned each pair with a topic that will be sufficiently challenging." Dumbledore peered mischievously over his half-moon spectacles. "There is a catch though…your partners will have to be in different Houses."

A few outraged gasps and a loud chorus of murmuring came from the students.  I kicked Ron on the leg from under the table and smirked. _I told you so._

I was not apprehensive anymore. If the professors grouped me with a person who matched me in grades and intelligence, I should have no real problem. I was confident in their ability to pick a person suited to me. I'd probably end up with Padma Patil or Hannah Abbot…I heard that they did quite well last year and were requested to become prefects…

I had an awfully hard time keeping a smug grin away from my face as I looked at the panicking Gryffindors around me. Our House was so bonded, that some people barely even knew the names of some of the outsiders!

Dumbledore had a calm, beatific smile on his face as he started up again. He seemed pleased with the reaction he was getting. "Silence please… These projects will be due in June, and as it is only October, I trust that your finished projects will be full in content and imagination." He paused for a pregnant second. "Do you want to know who your partners are now? Or later in the Common Rooms?"

The "NOW!" was unanimous. 

Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before speaking out to the hushed room.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy and Bones, Susan researching on extinct Magical Creatures"

 In front of the rest of the year, the two girls eyed each other critically from their different tables, and nodded their approval. One pairing down.

"Turpin Lisa and Finnigan, Seamus researching on the art of Magical Paintings"

The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor flicked their eyes at one another for the briefest second, and started whispering to their friends. Another pairing down.

I don't know how long I sat there, waiting for one of my friends to finally be called. Time passed so slowly, but I wasn't aware of anything around me. My ears perked up when I heard Dumbledore cry out:

"Potter, Harry and Abbot, Hannah researching on the ancient Magic of India."

From where I was sitting, I saw Hannah, the blonde girl who I first identified with pigtails, turn a bright shade of red, and look at our table anxiously. Harry simply blinked twice, and cleaned his glasses.

More people... The names became a bland song that I had automatically tuned out of my head.

Suddenly:

"Parkinson, Pansy and Weasley, Ronald researching on the Magical Schools around the World."

Ron, who had been fretfully nibbling on a biscuit, had suddenly straightened up as if a rat had bit him in the ass. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it. Flicked his eyes erratically around the room. 

I reached over the table and patted his hand comfortingly. I didn't even want to see how Pansy was reacting to this obvious mix-up.

More people… I was getting uneasy. Who would be my partner now? Padma and Hannah had already been chosen. And _surely_ it wouldn't be Millicent Bulstrode…right? 

"Granger, Hermione and—" I tensed up. A large part of my grade would depend on what person I got now. I clenched my fists tightly. My nails bit into the palm of my hand. "—Malfoy, Draco on the Magic of Ancient Greece."

I don't rightly know what I did then. Did I just sit there, dead to the world? Or did my face contort in disgust and revulsion?

All I know is that both Harry and Ron were looking at me with horror etched clearly on their faces.

There must have been some mistake.

~~~*~~~

Authors Note: Hey people! I'm back into writing again! I hope the beginning of this story reaches your expectations. As you might know, the name _Hermione_ is Greek, and was derived from that of Hermes, the Greek messenger god. I'm not too sure about _Draco_'s own origin. One source said it was Italian, but then how about that Athenian spokesman with the same name, the one who was very cruel and severe? Oh well, if I got it all wrong (despite the research I did), I'll be happy to show you I have this: *flashes artistic license* Hehe!

Please tell me what you think… I don't think I'll continue this story if I get less than 7 reviews…


	2. And Wailing went the Weather

Author: The*Spangled*Pandemonium

Title: In the Hands of the Gods

Chapter Title: And Wailing went the Weather

~~~*~~~

Draco: 

My black robes brushed against my knees with a soft, whispery sound. I was in my Slytherin dorm room, pacing the cold stone floor fitfully. The great fireplace shed only a pitiful light on the darkness of the chamber. 

I couldn't take this! I could not, and _would_ not let this happen! I, Draco Malfoy, the only son of Hogwarts's most generous benefactor, was being paired with a filthy Mudblood in the biggest project of the year! It was ridiculous! Dumbledore knew perfectly well what my reaction to this disgrace would be, and he still assigned Granger and I as partners!

I had written to my father right after that terrible assembly, and he still did not reply to my owl. It was already 7:30 in the evening, and tomorrow would have to be my first day working together with…her. 

I needed to react quickly, before it got too late for us to exchange partners. Evidently, I couldn't get my father to scrounge up a quick response. I'd have to take that matter into my own hands, at least for a little while.

I walked to the door of my room and shut it with a faint click. Though I wanted to slam the door loudly, expressing the glove of irritation covering my mind, I didn't want everyone to know I was leaving. This would have to be kept silent.

I was out of the Slytherin common room and marching down the corridors of Hogwarts in a matter of seconds.

Knowing Granger, she'd probably be in the library getting early information for a project that I would not be a part of.  So that was where I was headed. I ate up the floor with my long legs, but each step I took was filled with great reluctance. I didn't want to talk to her, damn it! I didn't even want to be in the same room as her! But… We'd have to make a deal with each other, since we both plainly hated how destiny had toyed with us.

As I neared the entrance to the library, the intricately carved doors opened, and out came the person I was looking for. Granger's full lips were pressed together in annoyance, and a slight frown lay between those eyebrows. Obviously, she was as unhappy about seeing me as I was to her. Her expression mirrored my own. 

"We need to get out of this." She said determinedly as I neared her. Her hazel eyes shined in the torchlight as she looked everywhere but my face. "I don't know what they were thinking of when they placed us together."

_You're not the only one._

"I told my father about this mess. He'll get me out of this, when he find out who I'm paired with." I sneered disdainfully at her. "I just need an agreement from your part."

She shoved her thick mane of brown hair behind her shoulders and glared at me, "I don't need _his_ help. I'm not going to go as low as to ask _Lucius _to get me out of this." 

The way she said my father's name with such disrespect and scorn both enraged me, and…it interested me. So few people were willing to show insolence to my family's name. 

She must have gotten that habit from Potter.

After thinking about my nemesis, I stiffened and my eyes turned into hard, cold, ice shards. I didn't need this crap from a person who was so undoubtedly not worthy of my time.

"I'm not asking you to do this, Granger, I'm telling you." 

Her brown eyes flashed, and she raised her voice. "You are the last person I would allow to make my decisions, you pompous jerk!"

"Do you really want to spend long months in the library with _me_? Do you really want to go to Greece with _me_? Do you really want to tell Potter and Weasley that you have to leave them so you can see _me_?" 

_Obviously not._

Her lashes fluttered close, and when she opened them again, her eyes showed resignation. "Fine. Ask your father. But that doesn't mean you can tell me what to do!"

She turned on her heel and sped off with a huff.

Hmph. Ungrateful wretch.

I stormed back to my bedroom, ignoring my friends' questions as they saw me come in. 

I was tired, and I did not want to be interrogated. Sleep was good. Sleep would block out everything that happened today. I fell into my four-poster bed, sinking into my sheets, trying not to think about _her_.

~*~*~

_I was in a crummy old tavern, and by the Gods, I was depressed. _

_"I'll have 'nother one, Celeus." I mumbled, after I gulped down the last remaining drops of my mead. I plopped my head down on the table despairingly. The tears were wet on my cheeks._

_Why was everything still so messed up? Wasn't intoxication supposed to make one's mind blurry? Happy? Alcohol was supposed to numb the ache. Instead, it had only enhanced the pain. I was in some demented fog. A complete miasma of dejection and self-pity. All this crap about drinking taking away all problems was a lie. I was drowning myself in the stuff, and I hadn't forgotten anything._

_She dumped me. She really did. And I still don't know why she found someone else._

_"Philomena, how could you?" I moaned._

_And the sad thing was, as if I wasn't sad enough, was that I didn't really give a damn. I didn't love her. Pretty bit of blonde-haired fluff was all.  But how she left me for that damned Erastus… That made me mad. I was not a person to be deceived! _

_I straightened my back, ready to declare to the world that Damian was no woman's fool! _

_And promptly toppled off my chair._

_The floor was so nice…maybe I could just pass out on it…then I'd be contented. My bloodshot silver orbs closed, and I started to drift off. _

_"Damian? Umm, Damian?" I cracked open my bleary eyes and saw Celeus looking at me from over the counter._

_"Where's my drink?" I croaked at him. "I want more mead."_

_Two fuzzy Celeus' gave me a pitying look, and shook their heads. "You've had too much, my boy. You can pay me back later, when you're sober."_

_"Ok. Fine."_

_My eyelids shut once again._

_"Damian!"_

_I shot up from my comfortable spot on the ground. Was the world really wobbling or was it just me? I grabbed the counter for support and staggered out._

_The cool west wind blew comfortingly on my damp skin. I drew in a breath, lifted my face towards the inky sky.  The stars were especially luminous that night, as if they were shining there just for me. That small thought stirred a feeling of serenity in my soul. I leaned against the tavern's granite wall, just gazing up at that sky, until the mead hit me again, and I slid down, inadvertently falling asleep._

_Five minutes could not have passed before…_

_There was a cough. A prod. A voice asked me softly, "Umm. Excuse me? Do you need help?"_

_I peered up at the person hovering over me. She's awfully attractive… Her beauty was not noticeable at the first glance, but it was certainly there. Slim, athletic… (nice calves from where I was lying)…Her dark brown hair was piled majestically on her head, and topped with a coronet. I squinted my bleary eyes.  The light from the tavern was so dim, so how come there was a glow about her? She was practically radiant. And on those delicate ankles of hers…Winged sandals?_

_I must have been dreadfully wasted. I was starting to imagine things._

_"Who're you?" I groaned, brushing the moist blonde hair back from my face._

_She responded, but I couldn't hear properly. _

_I hauled myself off the tavern's steps and wobbled down the street._

_"Wait!" I heard a call from behind me, and a pair of feet following. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"_

_I grunted. From my past experiences, Dionysus, the god of wine, took care of his drunken followers. _

_All of a sudden, I stopped, gagged, and threw up on the road in front of me. I was so inebriated; I couldn't even smell the puke._

That strange woman was beside me in an instant. "You're not ok," she said firmly. "Let me help you to an inn."

_I would have glowered at her if I were in my proper state of mind. This woman was either extremely desperate, or a harlot. No one in the world was that kind and caring. At least, no one that I knew. I stared at her suspiciously as she put her delicate arm around my clammy shoulders, helping me walk._

_We made our way to an inn, and she finally deposited me on a chair inside. She talked to the owner of the place, who was, for some reason, extremely eager to help. Enamored, maybe?_

_I couldn't think anymore. I was too tired. Finally, without being disturbed, I slumbered._

~*~*~

I woke up in my bedroom in Hogwarts, clutching my pillow. Why had that dream seemed so familiar to me? Who was that guy…Damian? I rubbed my forehead and checked the time. It was not even 3:00, so I still had plenty of time to sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out all thoughts. It was only a dream.

~~~*~~~

Author's Note: Hello again, all you wonderful readers! I have left a very obvious clue about which Greek God our very own Herm-o-ninny is the child of. Remember: Winged sandals. I'm giving a Draco clone to each person who answer this correctly… Haha!

Thank all of you for your wonderful reviews. In fact, I typed a large chunk of this chapter right after I read them! Then I spent the rest of the week editing and asking my befuddled parents and siblings how it is to be drunk and whether ancient Greece had bars.


	3. Yea, A Sick Cloud Upon the Soul

Author: The*Spangled*Pandemonium

Title: In the Hands of the Gods

Chapter Title: Yea, A Sick Cloud Upon the Soul

~~~*~~~

Hermione:

This was beginning to get annoying. 

I was sitting with Dumbledore in his office, impatiently waiting for Draco Malfoy to barge in with his father in tow. Knowing Lucius' adverse power in the school, I counted on him to break up this unfortunate partnering. 

"Sorry about this, Professor." I muttered, looking down at his oak desk embarrassedly. "I expected Malfoy to be here by now."

"It's alright, Hermione." The Headmaster said lightly as he stroked the bright red and gold plumage of Fawkes the Phoenix. "It happens to the best of us."

Tch. "Best" was not a word I'd imagine to be related with that tiresome Slytherin. A thought had been stewing in my mind ever since that vexing talk with Malfoy, and it basically refused to go away.

 "May I ask a question, Sir?" 

"Go on."

"Why did you put Malfoy and I together though you know that we really dislike one another?"

Our Headmaster didn't seem very sadistic. Why this burst of cruelty all of a sudden?  
  


"Though you do not know it, Draco's grades are as good as your own." Dumbledore smiled amusedly. "It was simply the fact that both of your past test scores were just about equal that made us put the two of you as partners. Professor Snape seemed to oppose the pairing the most…"

I sneered inwardly. That whiny little aristocrat actually gets the same grades as me? The thought was laughable. I wondered spitefully how many strings he had to pull to get those marks.

Just then, I heard a timorous tap on the door. It wasn't the indignant rapping I expected, so I began to get worried. Whoever was knocking on that door was obviously not an angry parent.

In came my "equal," clutching a wad of parchment crumpled up in his long fingers. His usually pale cheeks were tinged with pink There was rage, and maybe a hint of humiliation in those silver eyes of his. 

Obviously, his beloved daddy had decided not to come.

"Father…" Draco spat from clenched teeth, "is at a—meeting—right now. He wasn't available."

He didn't bother to sit down; he just sort of planted himself there, looking darkly at Dumbledore and I. 

I pressed my lips together in exasperation. Damn him. I counted on him to do one thing. Just _one _thing, and he couldn't even do that right!

"Well, Professor—" I said, clearing my throat and flicking an irritated glance at Draco. "Here's the problem: Malfoy and I…don't want to be partners. You see—"

"—We're quite unsuitable…" Draco continued smoothly, ignoring the fact that it's rude to interrupt, "I personally, do not like the pairing. I mean, a Slytherin and a Gryffindor! It's outrageous!"

"Mr. Weasley and Ms. Parkinson, some very close acquaintances of yours, are both partners." Dumbledore pointed out sagaciously, "They do not seem to be complaining,"

_Not to you. But Harry and I are getting tired of Ron's incessant whining._

"You see, Sir—" I explained, before I was interrupted once more.

"—I think that it would be better for the both of us to be placed with different people." Draco said in a persuasive, inveigled tone, "If I may say so, Professor, I think that my—poor history—with Granger leaves something to be desired."

"Well then, Draco, I'm glad you suggested it. Now would be a perfect time to abandon all past differences." Dumbledore shot back smartly. "How could you ever make peace if you're always apart?"

"But Sir!" I protested weakly.

"It's going to be good for you two," He said with a note of finality, "I'm going to be quite anxious to see the finished project. Off with you both now. I do believe the other pairs are in the library." He smiled, and I could see the faint traces of mischievousness in that ancient face.

Dumbledore then buried himself in random papers on his desk, carefully shutting us out of his frame of interest. 

So what else could I do? I stomped past the stone gargoyle, leaving Draco to scurry after me. Let him catch up.

I shoved open the library's entrance and stalked towards the "History of Magic" area. Since Greece was one of the oldest and most interesting civilizations, I was quite sure there would be worthy information in that section. 

I scanned the cedar shelves with my eyes and I was starting to calm down from that disastrous talk. The library was a sanctuary to me, and everything about it (the clean papery smell, the tranquil mood and the quiet hum of people talking) made me feel better. Now Malfoy had invaded it, tainting its serenity. As if my thoughts had called him over, Draco suddenly appeared from behind the rows of books.  

"Granger, what are we going to do now?" He said contemptuously, as if the very act of him talking to me was disgusting.

"I don't know, Malfoy, ask your father, he'll _really _fix everything for you." I scoffed, my voice dripping with ill-concealed sarcasm. "Meanwhile, I'm going to research."

I pulled out a tome from the bookshelf, and poked my nose into it, determined to ignore him.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I spun around only to see Draco's face up close and personal. His eyes were a frost nova as he glared down at me and his voice was equally cold. "You are _not _leaving me out of this project." He hissed. "I have never been the one to dump my workload on someone else if I can handle it. I demand an equivalent hand in this."

Being a Gryffindor, I was no coward. I stared straight into his frozen orbs, with perfect scorn shining from my gaze. "I see no problem with that, but if _someone_ who fancied himself a better diplomat didn't get cornered by Dumbledore, we'd both be out of this by now."

"I'm warning you Granger, do not piss me off!" He yelled, "You could have spoken up if you wanted!"

"Oh, so now it's my fault, is it?" I shouted. I was unable to stop myself, the words were simply pouring out of my mouth. "Even if I did speak up, you would have just interrupted again!"

"I didn't interrupt you! I was just continuing what you—"

"—Continuing like this you mean?! Well, Mr. Malfoy, that isn't called _continuing_, it's called _interrupting_, as in 'breaking the continuity of'! If that word isn't in your vocabulary, make it! "

We both went on like that, spitting words at each other until a burning scent flooded into our noses.

"Fire! Someone set fire to the books! Madam Pince!" It wasn't until we heard Neville screaming until we comprehended that something bigger than our fight was happening. 

We ran towards the end of the bookshelves and found out that the shelf to our right was the one was ablaze. Frantically, I pointed grabbed my wand and pointed it towards the flames. I muttered a spell under my breath, and water poured onto the blazing wood. I flicked my eyes to person next to me; Draco was going the same.

When it died down, all that was left of that bookshelf was a charred chunk of nothing.

"Who…who did this?!" Madame Pince roared at all of us, the shocked observers who had just witnessed the attack of her holy ground. "Who?!"

Slowly, and guiltily, each of the students flicked their eyes on Draco and I. 

"Hermione?" She said painfully, "Did you do this?" It had taken Madame Pince six years to trust me. And I had just shattered that trust now.

"No, ma'am!" I said vehemently. I didn't! How could I have? I didn't even have my wand drawn out that time.

"Draco? How about you?"

Same answer.

She grabbed Colin Creevey's collar. The poor boy had just been visiting Harry, and now look what he was sucked into. "Who do you think did this?" She said sharply into his ear.

"Them…" Colin stuttered apologetically, his puppy-dog eyes flicking on to me.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because they were fighting very loudly, ma'am." He whispered.

She let go of him, and Colin melted back into the crowd, shivering.

"How about you?" She jabbed her bony finger towards Terry Boot. 

"I think it was them… They were quarreling quite viciously back there. You never know, they might've pulled out their wands." Terry shrugged.

"Out…of…my…LIBRARY!" She bellowed crazily at Draco and I, and pointed towards the door. "You can be sure that you'll receive detentions and fifty house points from each of you!"

We slunk out of the room, with out tails between our legs. Many pairs of eyes followed us as I walked away… I think I saw Ron and Pansy next to each other, their faces contorted into expressions of disbelief.

The door slammed behind us.

"How'd that happen?" Malfoy asked, running his hands quizzically through his blonde hair.

"Look, I'm sorry Draco." I mumbled miserably, and walked away.

~*~*~

_I breathed a sigh of relief as I took a fleeting step off Olympus and into emptiness._

_Ever since I was a child, I have adored the feeling of flying. My father, the Greek god Hermes, gave me my first pair of flying sandals when I was only five years old…and though centuries have past, I have never gotten tired of feeling the wind rustle my hair as I glide down to earth._

_I gripped my winged silver rod tightly in one hand, and the elegantly wrapped box in my other. This package was supposed to be delivered by father, but he had no qualms about letting me give it instead. I was the youngest of his children, but personally… I think I'm more mature than any of the others. _

_You see, getting drunk and chasing demi-gods isn't exactly my idea of being a good deity._

_I flew swiftly to the wood nymph Idalia, shoved the package at her, and left as quickly as I came._

_Another reason I love running father's errands is because I can meet with mortals… They seem so different form the people from Olympus… so much more interesting than all the Gods up there. It's fascinating to see how they age over time and what strange theories they make up about us. Occasionally, I render myself invisible, just so I can listen to them talk philosophy. _

_Up in Olympus, the only gods I can relate to are Apollo and Athena, but they're always too busy to talk to me, a goddess of no importance._

_Sometimes I wish I were born human…_

_I looked down at all the little people below me, so wrapped up in their existence that they fail to see the beauty of their lives, and the importance of time. They don't see that life is one of the greatest things they'll ever have… Most of them just waste their existence doing jobs that they don't enjoy, marrying people they don't love, and going to taverns just to get intoxicated…_

_I stiffened suddenly as I remembered that young man I saw at that run-down tavern last night. What was his name again? Damian…that was it… Maybe I should go check on him; he probably has to deal with that killer hangover all that mead would have caused._

_I swooped down on to the earth and landed in an alleyway near the inn, because I didn't want to make a big fuss by suddenly popping up from thin air. After straightening my pale blue dress and flattening down my hair, I strode to the middle of the street, conveniently making my rod disappear._

_Most people can tell that I'm immortal by my appearance, so they often look, but rarely touch. For the others…Lets just say you have to be able to dodge magic very well if you want to kidnap me._

_I shoved open the door to the inn, and promptly received an accommodating smile from the owner._

_"Hello. Have you seen Damian, the mortal…umm…young man, I dropped here last night?" I said, not very smoothly._

_"If you'll just follow me…" The innkeeper, a short, balding man in a toga, motioned for me to trail behind him as he walked up the creaky wooden stairs. "I believe that your consort has just woken up, ma'am. He seemed to be very—"_

_I tripped over the last step when he said 'consort.'_

_"Oh! Him! He's not my…consort," I mumbled, blushing furiously, "He was a severely inebriated man I found passed out on the street."_

_The owner raised his eyebrow, at me, and contained a smirk. Obviously, he did not believe me._

_When we reached a certain room, he knocked twice and opened the door to lead me in. _

_Damian was sitting on the bed, munching on a piece of bread. The sunlight danced in from the window and glimmered in that pale blonde hair of his. Those steel gray eyes that had been bleary before now gave me a piercing look. He would have been quite attractive by human standards, if it weren't the fact that he was glaring at me with such disdain._

_"Damian, this is the…" the innkeeper turned to me questioningly and I shook my head, "…woman that brought you in yesterday." And with that, he left the room, closing the door with a thud._

_"Hello," I said, smiling lightly, "I'm Hermia."_

_It looked like this Damian was one who didn't see me as an immortal… that was a fresh new change. So few can actually talk to me without stuttering or giving me that sappy look of awe. One could say that his contempt for me made me even more eager to talk to him. _

_"Are you feeling better?" I asked, "I would think you'd have an awful headache after all that drinking you did last night…"_

_Why did I even help him last night, you ask? Well, I believe that the gods of Olympus are supposed to help mortals, not just control them. I've made it a habit to help the humans after every message I deliver is given... It gave me a feeling of satisfaction, knowing that I aided someone in need. Usually, a mortal was so glad to receive help from a god, but this man…_

_"Look, I don't need anyone's help!" He hissed at me, catching me by surprise.  "I can take care of myself!" This guy had so much spite it was actually interesting to watch._

_"You were nicer when you were drunk, Damian." I said mildly, walking over and sitting in a wooden chair by the bed._

_"What do I owe you, woman?" He said sneeringly, "Do you want money now?"_

_Me? An immortal! Getting money from an angry human? That was so funny I actually laughed out loud. "No, I don't need your drachmas… I really just wanted to help you."_

_He stared at me suspiciously for a moment._

_"Who are you? You look different from the rest of them."_

_"The rest of who?" I inquired, looking down at my winged sandals and wondering how dense this guy was to miss them. _

_"Women." _

_"Oh," I said shortly. I already knew the story. A girl burned this guy, and now he believes no one will love him. Its been done so many times in the past, it wasn't even interesting to see the outcome anymore… Right then and there, I lost interest. "Well, Damian, I have to go now… I still need to see if I have anything else to deliver." I looked significantly down at my sandals, and then stood up._

_"Wait!" I heard a call behind me. "You're a goddess!"_

_I turned around, smiled, and walked through the door._

~*~*~

I awoke at 2:35 in my Gryffindor bedroom. As I was lying there, staring into the shadows, the vision of the immortal Hermia smiling at Damian came back to me. The dream had the same characters as the one I had yesterday… That had never happened to me before. I shifted my position on the mattress and closed my eyes. I'd have to think about it later… The next day would bring a certain Quidditch game Harry wanted to see, and I needed sleep.

~~~*~~~

Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind words about this story. When I read them, they make me more confident about everything I write, and I really appreciate that. *hands everyone Draco clones*

Hermes is the God of eloquence, thieves, liars, luck and the lyre. He is the son of Zeus and Maia (daughter of a Titan). His Roman counterpart is Mercury. He usually carries a winged rod called a Caduceus, and is often depicted as wearing winged-sandals and a wide-brimmed winged helmet. 

I decided not to let Hermione wear the hat, because it's a bit too obvious, though she has her own winged staff that she carries when she's up in the air.

I love reviews, and I'd be grateful if you'd send me some! Thanks!


	4. When We Were Both Together

Author: The*Spangled*Pandemonium

Title: In the Hands of the Gods 

Chapter Title: When We Were Both Together

~~~*~~~

Draco:

The wind whipped my blond hair into my eyes, impairing my vision. My knuckles were clenched tightly on the broom handle as I scanned the darkening skies furiously for the Snitch.

It was the first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, and the weather conditions could not have been worse. Those gray clouds looming menacingly over the field were threatening to let loose a torrent of rain and thunder. I wanted this to be finished fast, and from the way Cho Chang was buzzing relentlessly around, she wanted it done too.

"Damn it." I muttered under my breath, as the scattered drops around me turned into a heavy curtain of rainfall.

Barely dodging a Bludger as it whizzed its way towards my head, I looked frantically around for a faint glistening of gold. Nothing. Flying to the center of the field, I let my silver orbs eat up the view again. Gold…gold…gold. The closest thing to that color were the stripes on the Gryffindor scarves. From where I was flying, I could see Potter, Weasley, and Granger sitting in the crowd.

I'd have to give her the books and papers I borrowed from the Malfoy library later.

Mentally slapping myself, I tore my eyes away from the spectators, and back on the players zipping around me. Concentrate, you idiot! I silently scolded myself. We need to win this!

Out in the distance, I heard a weak, "60-10 to Slytherin!" coming from somewhere. 

We were ahead, and that was good, but where was that Snitch…? I circled around, brushing back the sodden strands from my forehead with the back of my hand.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny glimmering from the Ravenclaw stands… I urged my broom forward. The roars from the crowd were deafened by the urgency of the moment. But as luck would have it, Cho, who was miles ahead even with her crappy broom, swiped the air nimbly, and…we lost the game.

The rest of the morning passed by like some horrible fog, and soon enough, I was standing in the corridor, grasping the volumes tightly in my hands. 

I was alone, both literally and figuratively. After lunch, I had told Crabbe and Goyle to just go on to our next class, that I had some business to attend to, and there I was, cowering behind a suit of armor just outside the Great Hall. 

I was waiting for Hermione to pop that bushy head of hers from the front door and walk with Potter and Weasley down the corridor. Then I could toss those books at her and haul ass before her two boyfriends could snicker about my trouncing earlier. 

I'd never hear the end of it! All afternoon the nastiest of the Slytherins had whispered their snide comments into my ear, asking me why I didn't grab Cho's broom like I did to Harry's before, or why I didn't crash into her… That damn Snitch was practically flying in her ear! I wasn't even close to it! I felt like yelling at them. But of course I held everything in, being the martyr like I was. I merely nodded grimly and turned away whenever they brought up the topic. It was my fault for not paying attention. The other Houses were even worse. Each time they turned their eyes towards me, I could feel the sticky waves of victory sliding off of them. The haughty sense of triumph flashed in their expressions each time they glanced at me. It was enraging, yet I could do nothing. Because I deserved all of it.

The thick wooden doors burst open, letting out a fresh stream of sunlight from the ceiling. The dream team came out, having a heated conversation about something-or-the-other. Ron seemed the most animated, gesturing enthusiastically as Harry grinned at him. I slid out from my hiding place, and sneered appropriately at her friends, then turned towards Granger.

"I got these books from home." I said leisurely, enjoying the way I saw her companions' jaws clench at the sight of me. Their smiles faded away and they fidgeted uncomfortably. "Since we aren't exactly allowed in the library right now…" I let my words trail off and stood there with a question in my eyes.

"6:00 today. Flitwick's classroom." She said shortly, looking briefly at me then turning her attention back to the pile of books and parchment I had just dumped on her.

I nodded abruptly and started in the opposite direction as I heard Ron begin to say something. With a sinking feeling, I hastened my step a notch, knowing that the words were about that disastrous game earlier.

Once they were out of sight, I dropped that lackadaisical amble, and ran the rest of the way until I reached McGonagall's classroom. I quickly spotted Crabbe and Goyle sitting patiently in their chairs, laughing as Blaise related to them an unfortunate accident with Sally-Anne Perks during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"So I was just standing there, gaping at that glob of horned toad's bladder in her hair, then she turns around and asks what's wrong with me! So I was like, look Sally, don't get mad, but I accidentally…" He pointed to his own mop of brown hair, grinning sheepishly, "So she touches it, and there was all kinds of muck on her hand, so you know what she did? She chucks it at me! I've never seen such a fit my entire life! The professor had to practically hold her down before we could get her to stop swearing at me!"

"Why'd you have a jar of toad's bladder in class anyway?" I asked, taking a seat next to him and fishing out my wand from its contents.

Blaise turned his bright green eyes at me, and smiled good-naturedly, ignoring my grumpy inquiry. "So, Malfoy? What was the 'pressing business' you needed to attend to?"

I felt a grimace form in my face. "Stupid project…" I mumbled, putting my elbows up on the table and staring blankly at the empty teacher's table. "Stupid Gryffindors..."

"Ah ha!" He said, a look of triumph worming its way onto his smug face. "How was it with the school's princess? Didja charm her into doing all the work yet?"

"Draco has the bad habit of doing his share of the job." Crabbe said, smirking at me.

"How else will I pass?" I deadpanned. "I constantly get paired with lazy retards such as yourselves." That comment brought another round of laughter, and I finally let out a small chuckle. 

The afternoon passed rather pleasantly, despite the continuing glares of some of the more bitter Slytherins. It felt way too soon before I cracked open the door to Flitwick's classroom and saw her again.

"You're late." Hermione said, not bothering to look up. Her hazel eyes scanned the pages of the book and with her right hand, she wrote notes on a separate piece of parchment. I couldn't help but notice how her curly hair fell onto the tome as she bent over it, and how she was mesmerized by its boring words.

The high windows revealed a spectacular sunset which painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, yet the resident workaholic took no notice of it.

"I was getting these." I dropped the new mound of information noisily on the table next to her. She straightened up, jolted out of her note taking. 

"I'm glad you've decided to do your share. Ron hasn't had the same luck." She looked me in the eye pointedly, pursing her lips in a way that antagonized me all over again.

"I said I would. And if Weasley has something to say to Pansy, he had better do it himself."

The silence that followed was painful and offensive.

I grabbed a blank piece of paper and a quill from my bag, and opened one of the books I had just brought. We sat there for about an hour or so, concentrating deeply on our research, deliberately ignoring each others odious presence. The only noises were the rustles of  pages being turned and the soft sound of two people breathing. After a while though, the nighttime heat and bland writing started getting to me, and I found myself either glancing at Granger or sinking into a reverie once a paragraph was finished.

All of a sudden, I couldn't take it anymore.

"You're using a muggle pen." I blurted out stupidly.

Startled into looking up, she reminded me of a deer caught in a Mudblood's car's headlights. "Yes, I find it easier to grip than a quill, so I use it sometimes."

"Right.…" I pretended to think deeply on this. "I've never heard of Dumbledore using anti-cheating pens. Only quills. Is that how you get your impeccable grades?" I had deliberately upset her with this, wanting to rile her up again. This witch really brought out the sadist in me. "No one's perfect, but your test results always seem to be."

"I'm willing to embrace the hard work of studying, which is much more than can say for you."

"Embracing hard work? Sound's like a Hufflepuff trait. Nothing like that in me." I raised a speculative eyebrow at her. "Perhaps the Sorting Hat was wrong about you…"

"There is nothing wrong with Hufflepuff, you git." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Cedric came from that house and he's an infinitely better wizard than you are!"

"He's dead." I shrugged indifferently like the asshole I was, conveniently forgetting that I once brandished pins with his name on it.

She stood up, jabbing her finger threateningly at me. And I had no choice but to do the same. "What the hell is your problem, Malfoy? Too busy stuck on your rich, inbred, aristocratic life to take notice of things like simple respect?!"

Alright, that stung.

"My only problem," I said acidly, "is that I've wasted too much time being insulted by you."

The torchlight from the classroom's stone walls dimmed, then rose up violently. The shadows danced upon the room, and I was suddenly aware of how peculiar the fire was behaving.

Hermione froze, her unfathomable brown eyes looking straight at me. The air was thick with tension, and I could tell she was thinking very seriously about pulling out her wand and hexing me. I got the shock of my life when she closed her eyes, rubbed her temples edgily, and plopped back down on the chair.

The torches seemed to relax, and eased slowly back into their regular height rather cryptically. It was really starting to freak me out.

Slowly, I sank into my own seat and stared sullenly at her. Granger was glaring at me in that annoying manner that seemed to analyze everything in my head. When she finally spoke, it was as if she were choking on the words.

"We should really stop arguing… We'll never get a reasonable grade, much less a good one, if we continue on like this. Quit insulting me, and I'll stop fighting with you. Do we have a deal?"

I couldn't help notice her attention shift uneasily towards the torches as they burned merrily. It was as if it hadn't risen to a cringe-worthy inferno just a moment ago!

"Yeah, well, us 'rich, inbred aristocrats' need passing scores as much as filthy Mudbloods do." I let out a deep, dramatic sigh, then quickly adapted a somewhat conversational (but sardonic) tone. "I was thinking of spitting on my hand and asking for us to shake on it, but I believe you commoners have stopped doing that by now. Basic hygiene, you know." I smirked at her.

I was pleased to see a small grin appear on her normally contrary face, though it was quickly smothered by a frown. 

There was a minute of silence as we gazed at each other suspiciously. 

"Have you found anything interesting yet?" She finally asked, tapping her muggle pen lazily on the table, "All I can get are bits and pieces about the rituals the Greeks did to appease the Gods. Oh! And I did find something about how they wove hazy facts about  the magical creatures near their area into their mythology. It's all quite fascinating actually, but its such a wide topic, I don't know where to begin!"

Looking at the growing pile of notes she had next to her, I would think she'd begun years ago.

"Why don't we make an outline? Then we can organize whatever data we scrounge up and write it out neatly."

" Now why didn't think of that?" She said, bringing that pen to her mouth and nibbling on it thoughtfully. 

I really wish she wouldn't do that. It was awfully distracting.

"You were too busy picking a fight with me, I suppose." I mumbled, shifting my paperwork around.

"I heard that." She said, yawning lightly as she assessed the papers around her. "And you were the one that started it."

"I did not!" I replied, mock-horrified, knowing perfectly well I did.

"Did too"

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did too." I grinned, propping my long legs up on the table..

"Did n—" She rolled her eyes at me warily. "C'mon, Malfoy. That was so unbelievably childish. Even for you."

"So sue me. I'm dead tired. My brain's unused to all this bloody researching. I mean, its been over an hour!" My silver eyes regarded her with half-closed lids as she peered quizzically at me.

"How'd you get such high grades then? You're too damned lazy."  
  


I smiled amiably. "Who said I have high grades?"

"Doi… If you're paired with me in this terrible thing, you must have some kind of brain hidden in there, however miniscule."

"You're a bitch, you know that? I'll tell you about it some other day. Not now. Time sure flies when you're ripping someone's throat out."

"Right on..." She muttered dryly. "See you tomorrow then. Same time?"

"Umm, no, actually. We've got our detentions to carry out."

"Oh, right. God, I'm getting old! I'm starting to forget the simplest things."

"The effects of too much studying."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"All right, all right… G'night."

"Goodnight… Draco."

We gathered our books and went our separate ways.

~*~*~

Despite her grand exit yesterday, Hermia came back again to meet me. I have no idea why some gorgeous goddess would even be remotely interested in a man who had almost thrown up on her immortal feet, but I sure wasn't complaining. 

_I could even use her curiosity of my to my advantage._

_I mean, I (and nearly all the people in Greece) have heard all these stories about the gods of Olympus whisking away mortals and granting them immortality. Like Zeus grabbing up Ganymede, though that was based entirely on looks alone. The idea of being a cup-bearer to those slothful deities up there didn't please me, perhaps I could appeal to  them for something better…_

_Maybe, I could convince Hermia that I just wanted to be with her forever…And being an average human with a time limit was the one thing that would separate us. _

_That blissful thought made a slow smile emerge on my face. Olympus… I had always imagined myself surrounded by the rich and famous, though I never expected a divine power being the cause of such luck…_

_"What are you so happy about, Damian?" Hermia asked, nudging me carelessly with her elbow. _

_"Why shouldn't I be happy? After all, I'm in your company, aren't I?" I looked down at those intriguing dark eyes, applauding myself as I saw the light blush on her face. Hehe. I could already see myself living the life of luxury…_

_We were strolling companionably  in the agora of Athens, an open area at the center of the city that served as a market and a meeting place. I use the term 'strolling' very lightly, since I had to contend with the massive wave of merchants and citizens pressing about me. Remarkably, Hermia was simply wading into the crowd, keeping up pleasant conversation as I very nearly crashed into a cart of vegetables. No one dared to come too close to her, and I could see their curious stares upon that lean frame. All who saw her knew exactly what she was… But she didn't seem to notice at all, smiling at random strangers and running her fingers through a peasant boy's hair (who yelped excitedly and was quickly surrounded by a grubby group of friends). A group of thuggish men with dirty ripped chitons watched her unpleasantly and I suddenly realized the potential danger she was in._

_ What kind of fool was I? Just because she was a goddess it didn't exclude her from things like pain and loss! She could very well be robbed, or even kidnapped for ransom! And whose head would be on the platter for putting her into such a mess? _

_The thought made me tremble, especially when I realized that she wasn't next to me. I stopped, looked back, and spotted her looking at a stall of musical items. Hurriedly, I shoved past a crowd of people until I was at her side once more._

_Grabbing her arm apprehensively, I tried not to think about how soft her skin was against me. "We have to leave." I said shortly. Everywhere I could see some shady character ready to throw a sack over those butterscotch curls and snatch her away. "It really isn't safe for you here."_

_She blinked twice, and I saw her gaze flit past my face and towards the direction I had come from. She put down the lyre she held, and firmly planted her hands at her sides. "Damian! You knocked over that poor man's belongings! The least you can do is help pick them up." _

_I gaped at her incredulously. _

_"We have to leave." I repeated, assuming she didn't hear me correctly. _

_She bit her bottom lip, walked over to the fallen items, and gathered up every last bit. She dumped all the objects into the man's waiting hands, and marched back to me. "See! That wasn't so hard… NOW we can go."_

_Hermia walked on, leaving me to trail behind her._

_Damn it. I had disappointed her already. I'd never be immortal at this rate… Why hadn't I picked up those things anyway? I was too darn callous for my own good… Now Hermia had gone off in a snit and I'd have to make up a rotten excuse.  I'd better say I didn't hear her properly… Yeah, that would be good enough…I followed her until she reached a grassy knoll, which lay  a few blocks away from the market. I was a bit surprised that there was such a place in the middle of the busy city. Finally, she halted beneath a tree and turned around to face me._

_"I know what you're up to, Damian."_

_"What on earth are you talking about?" I asked pretending ignorance, and knowing exactly what she meant. "I was just trying to get you away from the crowds…"She ignored my hasty babbling._

_"So you want to be immortal, do you?" Hermia crossed her arms and looked amusedly at me. "I knew it the moment you stopped being rude and arrogant. Not to mention that glint in your eye. And you overdid the compliments."_

_I collapsed on the ground and picked dejectedly at the soil with a twig. I realized now that I was on the dirt, I'd have to look up at her when I talked. That didn't improve my mood a fraction. "Was it that obvious?" I mumbled, covering my face with my hands._

_"I'm sorry to say it was obvious. REALLY obvious." She laughed. It was not a throaty chuckle or flirty giggle (like what Philomena had).  It was a real laugh, overflowing with the joy of life. Hermia had a laugh that made you want to laugh right along with her…It was so completely without malice or scorn that I risked peeking between my fingers._

_What I saw in her took my breath away. Her tumble of curls was dappled in sunlight and her wide smile revealed pearly white teeth. She had sat down next to me, and looked perfectly at home sitting on that hill. Hermia had stretched out her sandaled feet in front of her and crossed her legs demurely._

_"I'm sorry, Hermia." What else could I say? "I wont do that again." But I knew I would…maybe next time I'd convince her. Greed and ambition always held the tightest hold on me._

_"You'd better not." She said, then pointing up to the sky. "What is your opinion on that cloud over there? I think it looks rather like a ship!"_

_I gazed at that azure sky, wondering how life had brought me to this moment. "I don't think so… It reminds one of a somewhat fat dog."_

_We then proceeded to do the ageless tradition… Hermia and I looked at those clouds all afternoon._

~*~*~

I sat up in bed, the memory of her sweet laughter still ringing in my ears. Squinting sleepily at the clock next to me, I read the time… 2:35 again! That was the same time I woke up yesterday! I felt a queer shiver down my back. It was Damian and his goddess again, come back to haunt me for the night. I pressed my face back into the pillow, desperately wanting to know what all of this meant… but there was no way I'd talk to bug-eyed Trelawney, my only mentor in things like dreams… I felt like yelling. There was something so familiar about all of it! So why didn't I understand? 

~~~*~~~

Author's Note: I heartily apologize for the two month wait and I hope you forgive me… I typed the first one fifth of this chapter right after the last one, eager to please myself and others… The next day, when I woke up to write, I found myself at a dead halt. I remembered the horrible feeling of writer's block, and I knew it had discovered me once more. 

Right after that, my brother brought his computer back from the dorm, and I found myself being drawn to the addictive game of Neverwinter Nights… I finished the whole thing, as I impatiently waited for my groove to come back. _

Finally, I remembered my sad story, lying in the rain, abandoned, and I decided to get at it once more. My writer's block had dissolved into a puddle (yahoo!). Please review this chapter. I made it longer than the other ones… Just for you. *wink* 

I also thank you for the gentle prodding that urged me to continue this story… Thank you for sharing your knowledge of Ancient Greece with me... It makes researching much easier. *huggles my World Book Encyclopedia* 

Oh, and I used the word chiton earlier. It is pronounced KY tuhn. A chiton is a belted garment of linen and wool that Greek men and women wore… Love you all!__


	5. Weak if We Were and Foolish

Author: The*Spangled*Pandemonium

Title: In the Hands of the Gods 

Chapter Title: Weak if We Were and Foolish

~~~*~~~

Hermione:

The sun was one big red firework against the nighttime sky. Dawn had come splashing into the firmament, an artist's tentative paintbrush against a dark canvas. 

Right after I had woken up from my dream about Hermia, I had tried to go back to sleep, but I, Hermione Granger, did not abandon puzzles so easily, even if I dearly wanted to leave this one be. 

From then on, I had been searching (in vain) through the wide library of my mind for the meaning of it all. I've had my share of recurring dreams in the past… What made this one special? Was it because I loved the feeling of soaring through the heavens? Or maybe it was because of the rich majesty of Greece? 

_Denial is more than just a river in Egypt._

Remembering my grandmother's old saying, I cringed. I had been shunning the obvious reason of why this dream had gripped me so… It was Damian—blonde-haired, avaricious, sexy—Damian. 

I felt my face grow hot, and I put a chilled hand against it. Suddenly, I was glad no one was up yet, for I knew I was blushing.

He was the reason I just didn't condemn this dream as a mere fantasy. How could I resist anything with such a unique, intriguing character in it? I could totally relate to Hermia. She too came back to that inn to satiate her curiosity of him. 

I had been fighting off the inevitable. I _needed _to know what this dream meant, and if I had to swallow my pride and look it up in my Divination book—I would do it. My thirst for more information overwhelmed my scorn for that field of magic.

Tossing my blankets to the side of my bed, I stood up just as Hagrid's roosters started crowing outside. 

Now where did I put that awful copy of Unfogging the Future? I seemed to recall stomping back to my dorm room after my last Divination class and giving it a departing kick. Maybe it was under my bed?

I shuddered as I imagined the thick layer of dust it had accumulated after three years in hiding. Squashing the thought of flourishing dust bunnies having a fiesta, I bent down and peered into the darkness. 

"Lumos." I mumbled, gripping my wand tightly.

I reached down by the side of my bed and stuck out a tentative hand under my bed. 

After seeing a boxful of old SPEW badges, a couple of abandoned hair clips, and one sad, lonely sock, I spotted what I was looking for. I grabbed the book hastily, and threw it on the floor next to me, sending up a miniature mushroom cloud of dust. 

Impatiently, I grabbed a tissue from my side table and wiped it clean. Flipping to the chapter of dream interpretation, I read quickly, not even bothering to sit down.

"Dreams. They have been a part of the human psyche since before recorded time. They have been said to have different purposes at different times throughout the ages. Some divine messages from omnipotent beings are thought to be read in them; others later saw them as a window to the unconscious."

Blah, blah, blah.

"Deciphering Dreams" 

Ah ha! This was the stuff I wanted…

"1) Do places in your dream remind you of anything/anywhere?"

Duh. Everything just _screams_ Greece. I've never set foot in that country, but its quite evident by the architecture. Besides, when I'm Hermia, I obviously know which civilization I'm from…

"2) How do you feel in the dream, and what is the overall mood?"

I feel… happy. At least when I'm with Damian, I am. I'm both contented and a wee bit suspicious whenever I talk to him. An awkward combination, but I'm being perfectly honest.

"3) Does this dream remind you of any previous dreams you might of had?"

It's recurring. I've had this dream for several days now… It simply just continues… 

Stupid book… It's just telling me stuff I already know.

"4) If there are people in the dream, do they remind you of anyone, possibly even yourself?"

Hermia _is _me. Well, excluding the fact that I can't fly. And I'm not a super cool goddess, and I'm certainly not the daughter of Hermes. Plus the fact I live in another country. In another time. 

Still. Hermia and I have freakishly similar personalities. Usually, I act different in my dreams, but this immortal woman was _me_. We are brave, kindhearted, intelligent, and have that streak of arrogance too.

I bit my lip and continued down the page.

"4) What are the main images in the dream? _(a person, place or thing that is the dream's focus)_"

Main images? Damian, certainly. That gorgeous fool was certainly the star of _this _story.

"5) What comes to mind when you think about these main images?"

Hmm… Ahh… Umm…

My fingers grew slack, and Unfogging the Future fell down onto the floor with a loud THUD, which jolted Ginny awake in the bed next to mine.

Draco.

He was the _only _guy who fit the description. Who else was blonde, gray eyed, and had that magnetism that made a girl want to slap him for simply being too hot?  

Damn it! Even their personalities were somewhat alike! I mean, except for a few things. Damian… Damian seemed softer, sillier, more inclined to fail. His lack of self-control and badly planned schemes make one feel both irritated and affectionate.

"Hermione?"

While Draco… I knew from the moment I met him that Draco Malfoy was destined to rise to the top and make everyone pay for the crime of living. He gives off an aura of danger and spite to those who oppose him. When he is near, the world seems like a tenser place. It's as if there is there is something about him... Like he was born to reach an obscure goal, and none would ever get in his way…

But between Damian and Draco, there is absolutely no doubt that their pomposity is exactly the same.

"Hermione?"

Suddenly, I felt like retching. It was disgusting! Nasty! I had been working with that bastard for days now! Now I find out I was _dreaming _of him as well?! Argh! I felt like smacking myself for even bothering to pull out that blasted divination book. 

Stupid dream! 

"HERMIONE!"

I glanced over at Ginny, who was squinting strangely at me.

"What on earth are you doing?" She asked worriedly, gazing at me as if I were insane. "Haven't you slept at all?"

I realized how crazy I must have looked to her, my poor friend. I was wild haired girl in purple pajamas with intense, gleaming eyes, staring at a book based on a subject I loathed. 

"A bit." I grunted, staring past her, into the full-length mirror we both shared. "I—I just had a bad dream."

How had it come to this?

~*~*~

I was walking to History of Magic with Ron and Harry, but seemed like all of us were absorbed in our own problems. I still couldn't quite swallow what I had discovered this morning! Usually, my technique was to use the "light-switch" method when it comes to stress outside schoolwork. I "turn off" my thoughts about the problem until I'm done with my studies and I can think about it freely. But somehow, it just wouldn't work today. I believe my teachers were curious by my distracted silences in their classes…

Ron, as usual, was wearing out his troubles by talking about them. His eyes blazed with as much passion as his words, and he nearly tripped on a passing Neville as he entered the classroom.

"Ooh. Sorry, Nev." He apologized, "So anyway, we were just sitting in the library, at the same table, y'know…"

"Obviously." I sighed tiredly as I collapsed into my seat.

"And she actually moves her chair closer and puts her hand on my arm! And I look at her as if she's gone nutters, and she gives me _this_!"

Ron offered a simpering smile that seemed like it had been cut from Pansy's face and pasted onto his.

"Then she did _this_." 

He fluttered his eyelashes at me and tilted his head to the side.

I gave a small wheeze, since I was too tired to laugh. "So the entire time she was talking about guys and she kept on flirting with you…" I concluded, smiling amusedly. "And she didn't touch the books at all?"

"NO! I mean, no! She probably had something in her eye or something." He shuddered. "And she didn't touch the books. Not once. So what am I going to do?" He moaned, placing his head between his arms. 

There was a moment of silence as Professor Binns floated in through the blackboard. Immediately, he started droning about so on and so forth about the Ministry of Magic in the fourteenth century. 

The golden light shining from the tall windows seemed a bit duller after that, and everything seemed infinitely more boring. I let out a small yawn and rubbed my exhausted eyes, wondering why Harry was so silent. He hadn't said a word the whole time Ron had been talking.

Ron suddenly lifted his head and ran a hand through his flame-red hair. "Hey Harry?" He whispered. "How's your project going? How's Hannah?"

The Boy-who-lived suddenly sneezed and knocked his bag off the table with an elbow. The crash rang out loudly, but Professor Binns never halted once in his dull lecture, oblivious to the students' snickering.

Harry bent down and picked up his things slowly, and when he got up again, he seemed surprised to see that Ron and I were still staring. 

"Hannah? Project?" I prodded, twirling my quill between my fingers.

"Oh." Harry said, smiling sweetly, "It's okay."

Ron and I looked at each other slowly, and turned our eyes back to our friend. 

"Are you alright? Not sick or anything?" I reached out and placed a hand on his forehead.

"I'm fine… Really." He said, and blinking his green orbs at me. "Everything's alright."

"Did you have a hard time researching on Indian Magic? I've heard much about it. It's such a fascinating culture, with all their profound knowledge on auras and their belief in faith influencing their—" I trailed off, slightly hurt that no one was listening.

"So, Hermione." Harry said, brightening up after some silence, "How's yours? Got any horror stories about Malfoy?"

Ron leaned over, grinning wolfishly. "Has he called his father yet to save him from you? Or is he making Crabbe and Goyle do his research for him?"

They both laughed at the mental image.

"Umm… Ah…" I mumbled intelligently.

"Hermione?" Harry said in a concerned tone, "He hasn't upset you, has he? Or threatened you? Because you tell us if he has…" His eyes took on a menacing look.

"Yeah. Has he insulted your muggle heritage?" Ron continued, flexing some muscle. 

"No more than the usual amount." I fumbled. 

"Has he said anything bad about us?" Harry whispered angrily. "I wouldn't be surprised…"

They were completely furious, and I hadn't even said anything!

"Guys! You're as bad as Parvati and Lavender! And people say girls are the only ones who like gossiping…" I said, rolling my eyes, "He's aggravating, but he _has _done his work. We'll be having our detentions later…"

They looked away, doubt clouding their expressions, and soon the only noise was the monotonous sound of Professor Binns' voice. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.  

~*~*~

We ended up polishing up in the trophy room. 

Draco and myself, I mean. At first he had simply grumbled absentmindedly about how "his father would hear about his only son laboring like a worthless janitor". But the conversation soon dipped into an intense comparison of our lives.

Can you believe that the earliest time Malfoy had been allowed in muggle London was the day we first went to Platform 9 ¾?

And you really could _not_ imagine his astonishment when I described a television to him… Naturally, he promptly covered it up with a sniping, "Yeah, right." Yet I had the sneaking suspicion he believed me…

We also fell into a heated debate about certain magical political issues (apparently, I was not the only one in our year level who reads The Daily Prophet every morning), in which he cussed quite a bit. 

Draco was surprisingly well read, too, due to the numerous tutors Lucius had hired throughout his childhood. The comical way in which he described some of them made my laughter ring in the halls.

I am considered smart by my peers, yet Draco seemed to have no trouble understanding my frame of thought and adding to the banter.

Of course, he never failed to throw in an insult here and there, but I shot back comments with unexpected ease. It no longer affected me, I noticed. 

Just when we were in the middle of waxing the floor, Harry and Ron walked in. 

"Hi, Hermione." Ron said to me, though he was glaring daggers at Draco, "Erm, we just wanted to check up on you."

Seeing he was at a disadvantage sitting down with a ratty cloth in hand, Draco stood up and crossed his arms threateningly. "Why, Weasley? Afraid I'm going to hurt your dear Granger?" He patted me on the head and received a swift elbow to the knee.

"I'm fine, Harry, Ron." I said, smiling sweetly as I got to my feet. "Draco isn't hard to handle." 

Draco flushed, and glared at me. "You probably get a lot of experience managing these two toddlers." He turned his gaze to Harry, "I think we're done here, Potter. You can have your surrogate mother back."

He swept out of the room as grand as a king, clutching that dirty rag. 

~~~*~~~

The sun's golden glory had faded to rust, and the sea of the sky had swallowed up the last trace of day as Damian and I walked through the vineyards one last time.

_Shrouded in sheer joy, I smiled faintly and closed my eyes._

_Damian had led me to this place, assuring me I would enjoy every minute of it._

_And I did._

_We had wasted the entire afternoon, picking the fat, juicy grapes from the vines and popping them into our mouths._

_At fist, I had questioned Damian whether we were allowed to intrude, but he calmly told me that he knew the owner._

_Knowing Damian, he was probably lying, but I wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, I was enjoying myself too much to be suspicious._

_Talking to him was so refreshing. He spoke of things I never conceived of in my pampered, sheltered (but long) life! One could even say he knew more about living than I did!_

_Suddenly, I felt a warm hand envelop my own._

_I looked at him, and found those intense thundercloud orbs on me._

_"Yes, Damian?" I asked. "What is it?"_

_He shook his head, blonde hair rippling, and smiled crookedly._

_We walked in comfortable silence until we reached the edge of the vineyard._

_"Well, goodbye, Hermia." He said, letting go of my hand. "Until we meet again."_

_I took in his strong forehead, those perfectly angled cheekbones and his beautifully straight nose. He was breathtaking._

_Sliding my arms around his shoulders, I tiptoed and gave him a sweet, simple, earth shattering kiss._

_Releasing him, grinned happily as I saw the shock on his gorgeous face._

_Taking five steps, I flew into the air, laughing softly to myself._

_From below, I saw a blonde girl, staring at me with piercing hatred._

~*~*~

I woke up, coughed, and turned over. What more could I say? The kiss—that kiss was cruelly delicious. My lips throbbed with the memory as I placed a tentative finger on it. 

Taking a deep breath, I stumbled to an uneasy sleep.

~~~*~~~

Authors Note: Oh no. Not another kissing scene! Once again, I plead for some kind of criticism or compliment. I still haven't kissed anyone since my last fic, so I can say that this bit has not come from experience. Pooey.


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